Quentin Wintrish's page

Thanks Ladile! I really appreciated your efforts.

Merry Christmas :)

Thanks so much, Ladile! :)

"Please, if you would, listen to our message from the Lodge. We bear the leadership's apology."

Diplomacy, Aid Xiao Hua: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14

"We do need some shovels to properly bury the dead so that they stay at peace," Quentin corrects. "Then we need to consecrate the burnt ruins."

"Oh. Well, we could use that," Quentin says. "However, I'm a bit short on actual shovels. Should we go back to town and retrieve some?"

No worries! I just appreciate you doing this at all. :)

"Hmm. A pumpkin?" Quentin tilts his head in puzzlement.

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

Knowledge (Religion): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

"This place is haunted, probably by the events that Bertinand described," Quentin says. "Maybe we ought to bury the dead before we leave."

"I agree with that assessment, Feather Seed," Quentin says, more to Argor than to the leshy. He wards himself with a simple cantrip before drawing his blade and moving slowly toward the ruins. "The hair on the back of my neck is standing up."

"Yes. Yes!" Quentin sheathes his sword and gestures for the leshy to lead the way. "I am ready to follow."

Quentin wipes the pumpkin off of his blade as he looks between the leshy and his companions whistling and chirping at each other.

"Eh?"

Quentin squashes a pumpkin with his sword and then points to the north. "Do you need our help?"

Yes. Lovely crafted posts, Ladile. And OK. :)

"None of the townsfolk are out, are they?" Quentin asks rhetorically as he draws his greatsword. He makes his way carefully, if noisily, through the field toward the splattering sound.

Stealth: 1d20 - 4 ⇒ (1) - 4 = -3

"No. No idea what they are," Quentin says with a shake of his head. "Do you or Elm have any reason to have drawn the ire of evil spirits?"

"We fear that whatever killed Elm is after you as well," Quentin says grimly.

"Yes. Thank you," Quentin says as he turns to follow the sheriff to Bertinand's home.

Quentin arches an eyebrow. "Armeline, you were a Pathfinder long before me and very skilled, I hear. There's something that may be a clue that we could not figure out. Would you be willing to help us help the constable and take a look at this map?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

"No, please, not another false accusation of murder," Quentin says, barely hiding his frustration. "The poor man was dead long before we arrived in town only a couple hours ago."

Quentin is still available if enough of the others are game. I wouldn't mind a chance to earn the leshy reward and (possibly) the hag reward.

I can summarize how this went (and where it went off the rails):

Getting Started: Normal
Welcome to Rosehaven/Exploring Rosehaven: Skipped by GM
Mercylight: Normal
The First Victim: Agreed to assist the sheriff
Elm's Death/Elm's Body: Normal
Elm's House: Failed to decipher the path to the next victim
Return to Rosehaven: Normal
House Arrest: Not done by PCs/Development implemented by GM, moving us to Fiery Vengeance.
Fiery Vengeance: Implemented by GM/Not earned by PCs (did not do House Arrest and not yet made it to Pumpkin Patch/Feather Seed)

Actually, we didn't need to get out of the house arrest. We only get the Fiery Attack if we attacked the guards to escape or if we failed to find the Leshy... which was a DC 8 Survival check from Bertinand's house, which we weren't given a chance to find. There's no way to find the haunted mire without the Leshy, which is why the Fiery Attack happens.

And we were never given a chance to meet Armeline. We went from looking around town and attempting to talk to the townsfolk straight to Mercylight.

"Perhaps we should bury the remains," Quentin suggests.

I think Kaminari finished the last one. Damage on Quentin should be -1 HP. The aura never took place as the burning skeleton died before Quentin's turn, and Mind Barrier prevented 2 of the 3 damage from the explosion.

"What's next?" Quentin asks, looking around the ruins warily.

Knowledge (Religion) to Identify: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 17

Quentin shies back from the heat. "The flames on this skeleton make it more dangerous. Try to stay back!"

Quentin touches his belt and then reaches over his shoulder to draw his greatsword as he steps forward. He swings the sword at one of the yellow skeletons.

Greatsword: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11
S: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (6, 3) + 6 = 15

Swift Action: Mind Barrier prevents 2 HP of incoming damage.

"Taking the gem without knowing its purpose," Quentin answers Argor and follows onward toward the ruin.

"Are you sure that's the wisest course?" Quentin asks hesitantly, following the Kellid.

Earlier...

"Do we know where Bertinand's lantern is?" Quentin asks. "Is it even a literal lantern?"

"What just happened here?" Quentin asks. "Did someone fumble a summoning incantation?"

Well, that's disappointing.

Quentin jerks his blade out of the ground in time to dodge the fiery elemental's assault. He continues his duel with the planar being, his jaw set with determination.

Greatsword: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
S: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (1, 4) + 6 = 11

"This is new!" Quentin shouts as he jumps out of the way of the fire elemental's lash. "I hope steel works!"

He swings his greatsword down at the living flame.

Greatsword: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
S: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (3, 2) + 6 = 11

"Quick! We've got to help them!" Quentin says as he assembles his gear.

"Goblin wearing a pumpkin, then?"

"We could always wait twelve years for the Society to send a rescue," Quentin chuckles as he shares in the food offered to them. "Thank you, Ivy."

"A pumpkin monster? Are you sure they didn't mean a halfling or gnome wearing a pumpkin on his--or her--head?" he asks after the tengu relays the results of his conversations.

He looks at Igna and raises an eyebrow. "Was that ever a question?"

"You don't trust the constable to keep us safe?" he asks Kaminari. "To be fair, he's already shown himself to be a far more reasonable man than others by not immediately chaining us and actually collecting the easily accessible exonerating evidence. I'll keep watch if it'll make you feel safer, but I trust the villagers to not storm in here so shortly after the absurd accusation has been laid."

"At least there's a boat this time. Last time the Pathfinders were accused of murder, there wasn't anything for miles around except angry villagers."

"Not this again," he laments morosely. "We were not the only strangers to come to the festival. Why were we singled out?"

"I see," he says with a nod. "Let's go."

"I'm sorry," Quentin interrupts. "Who's Bertinand?"

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10
Knowledge (Geography), Untrained, Max. DC10: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13

Quentin examines the two discarded pieces of paper. "I'm not sure what this passage means. Something about ivy and what looks like a reference to the natural cycle of life and death. The marks on this map circle the town."

He looks to the constable, "Do you think he was investigating something around the town? Maybe something that someone didn't want investigated."

"Tiny dragons if they were dragons," Quentin comments unhelpfully.

Craft (Pumpkin Carving): 1d20 ⇒ 9

Quentin finishes his lop-sided, jagged-edged, stringy attempt at carving a stylized face in the pumpkin. He looks over at some of the children's work and then back at his and blushes.

He turns around as the priest approaches them and listens. "Another small town murder? And I was starting to enjoy myself," he laments with a sigh. "But of course I will go."

He wipes off the pumpkin guts on a rag and grabs his greatsword as he stands. "Who was killed?"

My sympathies.

The plain looking soldier from Ustalav continues to follow along with the crowd, heading for the festival proper. "Who do you suppose might know Armeline," he asks his companions, "The mayor? Whoever owns the general store?"

Quentin chuckles at the halfling's exuberance. "It looks safe enough. No shifty-eyed murderers with a grudge against the Society that I can see."

"I think that I heard that Galt has no regional delicacies," Quentin says with a chuckle. "The cooks are too busy trying to assassinate one another."

"Maybe we can have some fun while we're here, too," Quentin says hopefully. He swings the sheathed blade up onto his shoulder casually in a move that belies its weight.

"Well, that is a terribly pessimistic way to look at it," the tall, broad shouldered man with a plain face, who introduced himself as Quentin, says. In the polite company, he wears simple traveler's cloths that have seen a fair amount of wear. He leaned his greatsword against the door frame when he entered and set a clanking bundle by the wall.

"However, my experiences in Dawnton showed me that even the people you want to help may try to murder you one way or another."